Obi's Checkup
by Galahan
Summary: Obi has to get his yearly physical. He isn't very happy about it, perhaps because things don't turn out the way he wants.
1. Chapter one

Disclaimer: I don't own SW or any recognizable characters. I'll return everything unharmed. Relatively.

Author's note: It might help if you read Silver, Anybody? First. I think there are a few references in here. If you click on my name (above) that'll take you to a page with a link to it. Please review!

Obi's Checkup

Obi-Wan Kenobi trudged gloomily down the hall towards his quarters. He reluctantly walked into the common room to find Qui-Gon waiting for him. "Good, you're here. It's time for your yearly checkup." Qui-Gon sounded entirely too cheerful about this.

Obi: But Master! I feel fine. Why do I have to go to the Healers?

Qui: I already told you. It's time for your yearly checkup.

Obi: (Whining.) But why? I spend enough time there as it is! (Mutters to himself.) What did I do to deserve this?

Qui: Hmm...let me think...Oh, yes, you followed me through the Temple last week insisting that I marry you.

Obi: That doesn't count! I didn't know what Silver was going to do to me!

Qui: Are you whining?

Obi: (Sarcastically) No, not me. It's the bad little Padawans behind you.

Qui: That's what I thought. Now shut up and walk.

Obi: Yes, Master.

Qui: Ah. Silence. I wish i heard this more often.

Obi: How can you here silence? I mean, I thought silence was the absence of... (Shuts up when he sees Qui glaring at him.) Uh, shutting up now.

Qui: That's good. Especially if you want to live until your fifteenth birthday. And by the way, your teachers have been lying to you all these years.

(The pair has now reached the Healers' Wing.)

Receptionist Droid: (In a sickly sweet voice.) Why are you here today?

Qui: My apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, is here for his yearly checkup. 

(Obi is glowering at his Master.)

Receptionist Droid: All right. Please proceed to room seven. Healer Anj-Paj will see you shortly.

Obi: Nooooooooooooooooooo!! He has COLD hands!

Qui: Obi? What did I tell you about silence and your fifteenth birthday?

Obi: Oh, yeah. (Thinks for a minute.) Uh, I forgot.

Receptionist Droid: (The Droid's sickly sweet voice almost sounds irritated.) Please proceed to room seven. Healer Anj-Paj will see you shortly.

(Qui drags a screaming Obi, by his braid, into room seven.)

Qui: Are you to old to trade in?

Obi: Yes.

Qui: Too bad. I heard from Mace that there's an Initiate that keeps his mouth shut.

Obi: That's impossible. You know you can't believe Mace on a regular basis.

Qui: (Growls.) Obi-Wan...

Obi: Sorry Master. Shutting up.

(Just then Healer Anj-Paj comes in wearing a fluorescent orange robe and an enormous smile.)

Anj-Paj: (Very enthusiastically.) Obi! It's great to see you! How long has it been? Three weeks this time? What's wrong now?

Obi: Mmmuumph. 

Anj-Paj: (Still very enthusiastic.) How are you today Qui? More talkative than your apprentice?

Qui: I'm fine. My apprentice is here for his yearly checkup. And if I were more talkative than my apprentice, I wouldn't be able to stop talking for long enough to breathe.

Anj-Paj: I see! Why the glum face, Obi, my boy?

(Obi has gone back to glowering. This time his glare is directed at Anj-Paj.)

Anj-Paj: Oh, cheer up! (Face lights up in a huge smile.) Tell you what, If you're a very good boy today, I'll give you a lollipop when we're all finished! How does that sound?

Obi: (Sarcastically) Oh, joy! (Turns serious.) I am NOT going to be bribed by a lollipop.

Anj-Paj: I have cherry!

Obi: (Thinks for a second.) OK.

Anj-Paj: (Very cheerful.) Good. Now let's get started!

(For the next half-hour, Anj-Paj pokes, prods, and measures Obi with every conceivable instrument.)

Anj-Paj: (Cheerful mood is now replaced by a glum one.) You're perfectly healthy.

Obi: (Grumbles to himself.) I already knew that. It was the idiot next to me who wanted to find out.

Qui: (Says just loud enough for Obi to hear.) I'm sure I could get the Council to agree to a trade-in.

Obi: (Very quickly.) Sorry, Master!

(Just as the pair is leaving the examining room, some sort of furry creature walks by.)

Obi: Achoo! Achoo! (The sneezes are so loud a nurse comes out of a nearby room to see what the problem was.) What was that?

Anj-Paj: (Suddenly, his very cheerful, enthusiastic mood returns.) I think that you're allergic to that animal. You might be allergic to more things...

(Anj-Paj sits Qui and Obi back down and asks all sorts of questions about sneezing, irritated eyes, stuffy nose, plant and animal life on worlds they had visited during missions, and a thousand other trivial things.)

Anj-Paj: I think that Obi has some serious allergies. I'm going to set you up an appointment with the Temple allergist. How does tomorrow afternoon sound?

Obi: Not good. I have...uh...ballet dancing! Yeah, that's it!

Anj-Paj: Ballet dancing? How... unusual. You'll have to tell me when you have a recital. I'd love to go!

(Obi turns beet red.)

Qui: (Laughing at Obi's choice of excuses.) Tomorrow afternoon will be fine, Healer. I'm sure that missing one ballet practice (Snickers wildly for a moment.) won't hurt too much.

Anj-Paj: All right then! Just come back here tomorrow at (Hands Qui a small appointment card.) that time.

Obi: Nnnnnnnoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(The pair finally leave the examining room and start back toward their apartment.)

Qui: Ballet dancing? Honestly, Obi, I never knew. (Qui's voice is positively dripping with sarcasm.) That's where you've been spending all you time lately!

Obi: Master, BE QUIET!!!

Qui: (Yanks leash, uh, braid.) OBI-WAN KENOBI! YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!!!

Obi: So you can say something like that to me, but I can't talk like that to you? This doesn't sound fair at all! And I didn't even get my lollipop!

(By now Obi is whining again.)

Qui: It ISN'T fair. I'm the Master. You're the apprentice. I make the rules. You follow them. 

Obi: (Pouts.) I knew you hated me!

Qui: Nah. I just want an apprentice that can keep his mouth shut. 

Obi: I CAN. I just don't. Maybe you ticked off the Force.

Qui: Can it Obi. And I didn't tick off the Force, I ticked off the Council. There's a difference. And by the way you're acting, it's time to shovel more food into you, isn't it?

TBC... I hope. Please review. Or email me at galahanz@yahoo.com and nag me to get chapter 2 up.


	2. Chapter two

Disclaimer: I don't own SW or any recognizable characters. Healer Sheehan is mine, though.

Spoilers: None.

Archive: Sure, just tell me where.

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Ivy, don't worry. Obi isn't ballet dancing. That is a good idea, though. Wildhorse, more stories are coming. As usual, feedback is greatly appreciated. 

Obi's Checkup Part 2

(Obi and Qui have been ushered into one of the examining rooms in the Healers' ward. The wait has long since been qualified as interminable. Finally, the allergist comes into see them. His name is Healer Sheehan.)

Sheehan: Hello. Which one of you is Obi?

Obi: (Immediately points at Qui.) Him.

Qui: Ha ha. Very funny, Obi. (Glares at Obi.) Actually, my apprentice is the one here for testing.

Sheehan: Ok. Now, I need to ask you a few questions...

(Sheehan then proceeds to ask hundreds of questions about every conceivable aspect of Obi's life. Many of them are the same as the ones Anj-Paj asked.)

Sheehan: All right, this seems very promising. (Starts to grin wickedly.)

Obi: (Sighs in relief.) Good!

Qui: (Sounds disappointed.) So we're done?

Sheehan: (Grins wider.) No. I want to do reaction tests.

Obi: (Sees the look on Sheehan's face and starts to get nervous.) Huh? What are those? Do I want to know what they are or should I just start running?

Qui: (Attempts to hold back his snickering.) It's all right, Obi. They aren't That bad.

Sheehan: Your Master is right, Obi. All we do is expose your skin to different allergens to see what makes you have a reaction.

Obi: Translation, please.

Qui: (Glares at Obi.) They test your skin to see what you are allergic to.

Obi: (Looks very nervous.) And how would you do that?

Qui: (Snickers more loudly.) Don't worry, all they do is stab you over and over again with enormous needles.

Obi: (Face turns as white as the ugly walls of the examining room.) Nee...needles?

Sheehan: There are two types of reaction tests. One is where we make scratches on your back and put syrum in them. The other is where we use needles and give you injections of the syrum.

Obi: (Very, very nervous now.) And what kind do I need?

Sheehan: (Enthusiastically.) I think we'll do both today.

Qui: (Snickering again.) Do I get to help stab, uh, inject him?

Sheehan: (Smiles understandingly.) No, sorry. Our trained nurses will do that.

Qui: Shoot.

Sheehan: I have other patients to see. The nurses will come in when they have things ready. Meanwhile, take off you tunic, Obi.

(As soon as Sheehan leaves the room, Obi races over to the tiny window and throws it open. He then attempts to wriggle through the eight-inch opening.)

Qui: (Laughs.) That would work if you didn't have such a big head.

Obi: (Now stuck in the opening.) Just get me out!

Qui: (Takes his time walking over.) This is going to be fun. (Grabs Obi's ankles and yanks the boy out of the window. Obi lands in a heap on the floor.)

Obi: (Whining.) Ow! Master, that hurt!

Qui: Are you whining?

Obi: Me? Never!

Qui: That's what I thought.

(Medical Droid comes walking in.)

Droid: Please remove your tunic and lie on the examining table. 

Obi: (Slowly removes tunic. Climbs onto the table more slowly than Hoth's snow would melt.) Master...

Qui: (Voice very fakely sweet.) What, Obi?

Droid: Please hold still. (Pulls a needle out of a drawer in the room.)

Obi: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Tries to bolt off the table, but Qui catches him and holds him down.)

Droid: I am now going to inject you with syrum. Please hold still. (Droid fills the needle very, very slowly.)

Obi: (Cringes.) Master! Please let me up?

Qui: Can I trust you? (Thinks for a moment.) No.

Droid: It took you that long to figure it out?

Qui and Obi: What? 

Droid: I said it will only be worse if you pout.

Qui and Obi: Oh.

(Droid snickers away about brainless humans while it injects Obi.)

Obi: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

(The Droid continues to inject Obi. It's just Obi's imagination that the droid shoves the needles in harder, right?)

Droid: Please hold still.

(Obi struggles as much as possible, but he doesn't have a chance of escaping from the eight-foot Jedi Master.)

Droid: There! I'm finished. Please wait for the evil Healer Sheehan to come in and check for any sign of irritation. (Droid leaves the room.)

Obi: (Whining, as usual.) That hurt, Master. (Suddenly looks suspicious.) You liked that, didn't you?

Qui: (Looks VERY happy.) No. That depressed me.

Obi: Oh.

(Healer Sheehan comes walking in.)

Sheehan: Hello, Obi! That wasn't bad, was it? I need to see your back.

Obi: Is Hoth cold? (Reluctantly shows the Healer.)

Sheehan: (Looks, very, very glum.) Well, it doesn't look like you are allergic to anything.

Obi: (Looks hopeful.) So no more torture, uh, I mean testing? 

Sheehan: (Very, very upset. Manages to look close to the point of tears.) No. I can't find any good excuse.

Qui: Too bad. (Sighs.) Come on, Obi.

Obi: (Carefully gets off table and limps over to the chair he threw his tunic on.) Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

Qui: (Almost laughing.) Stop limping! You got a few shots on your back, not your legs.

Obi: (Glares at Qui. Then starts whining.) But it hurts!

Qui: Hmmm... you know, I think it would be a good idea to retest you. Maybe the syrum was too weak.

Obi: (Looks like he's about to cry.) Nnnoooooooooooooo!!!!!

Sheehan: (Winks at Qui.) That would be a good idea. He could turn out to be allergic to some of the things on one of those dinky, little, out-of-the-way planets you to get sent to. I'll put it on my calendar.)

Obi: (Runs out of the office and through the rest of the Temple screaming at the top of his lungs.) NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

(Back in the Healer's office, Qui and Healer Sheehan are cracking up.)

Qui: (Between fits of laughter.) I think I'll bring him back next summer.

Sheehan: It's too good to resist! He's so gullible! 

(Both continue laughing so hard that their sides hurt and they can't breathe.)

THE END!

Author's Note II: I'm working on a longer story now, so it will probably be a while before I post anything else. Email me at galahanz@yahoo.com if you have any suggestions.


End file.
